Price to Pay
by God's Sense of Humor
Summary: Grimmjow doesn't want to remember. Ulquiorra can't forget. Post Grimmjow/Ulquiorra. T for language.


**A/N: Inspired by this YouTube video:**

**http:/www(dot)youtube(dot)com/user/SunAndMoonIchiRuki?blend=1&ob=5#p/u/0/t7_2Zfzgy0A**

**Check it out, it's pretty awesomesauce. And thank you to my awesomesaucealicious editor, Some What Sentient, for editifying!**

**~o~**

A weary wooden door rattled as its lock was abused by an unsteady key, being kicked open once the key was finally successful in its attempts. A man with tousled teal locks stumbled in, nearly tripping over his own feet as he fell into the messy apartment. He reached up, deftly flipping the light switch and slamming the door behind him. Kicking some clothes and empty chip bags out if his way, the man staggered into what appeared to be a living room. He plopped down on the couch, letting out a light groan as he stared at the ceiling.

_Damn... I'm never getting wasted again. _His head hurt like hell, he was so nauseous he wanted puke up his intestines, and overall felt like crap. Despite all that, he still did it. Almost every night, he drank until he couldn't stand. It seemed he never learned.

Excessive alcohol consumption had its perks, however. He didn't have to remember anything. If he drank enough, he could forget everything. His address, his name, his past. He could forget that marble-white skin and those endless green eyes. He could forget the hurt and pain and _hate_ that filled them whenever they looked at him. All of it could be gone, for the price of being in discomfort for the night and next morning. A reasonable price, he thought.

Grimmjow frowned, shifting on the lumpy couch and reaching for something that been poking him in the back. He pulled out the offending object and held it up. His own face, along with that of a paler man's stared back at him, framed. His brows softened, and deep blue eyes locked onto the picture as if in a trance. Subconsciously, the bluenet raised his other hand and traced his thumb over the pale man's cheek, as if he were really there. Those eyes... They were so emotional. They often clashed with their owner's apathetic face. They were the only way the bluenet could tell what his lover ― _ex_-lover was feeling. When his face was empty, his eyes reflected the inner emotion; loneliness, happiness, disdain, weariness, love...

Abruptly, the picture flew from Grimmjow's hand, smashing into the wall on the other side of the room. The glass and frame shattered. The teal-haired man threw his arm over his eyes, not wanting to see, not wanting to remember.

_Flashback_

_A familiar door swings open, slightly less battered than it is in the present. Grimmjow strides in, a distinctive air of frustration about him. He stomps past Ulquiorra, who is sitting the living room watching TV, without a word. In the small kitchen, the bluenet throws open the fridge. He bends down, squinting in distaste as he finds what he is looking for is not there._

_"Ulquiorra," he growls, straightening up to glare at the back of the raven-haired head. "Did you drink my last beer?" It sounds more like an accusation than a question._

_The paler man remains silent for a second, taking his time in answering. He sounds almost bored. "As I recall, I bought those beers. And yes, I drank my last beer."_

_The teal-haired man slams the refrigerator door shut violently, running a hand through his hair in aggravation. "Do we have any alcohol? I had a really shitty day at work. I could get drunk right about now."_

_"I don't know," Ulquiorra says quietly, his eyes fixated lazily on the TV program._

_Grimmjow huffs in irritation, grabbing a Coke and hurdling the couch to land beside his boyfriend. The pale man seems almost to flinch. They sit in silence for a few minutes, then Ulquiorra reaches for the remote and clicks the screen off._

_"What'd ya do that for?" the blue-haired man snarls, grabbing for the remote. "I was watchin' that."_

_The raven-haired man moves the remote out of his reach and looks into teal eyes. Grimmjow warily stares back at him, sensing something important._

_"Grimmjow."_

_Ulquiorra says, merely to imply, _I'm speaking and you're going to listen.

_The teal-haired man subconsciously sits straighter, noting the seriousness of the other's voice. His eyes narrow minutely, as if preparing for an attack._

_"I have been thinking... about our relationship." There is a pause as the raven-haired man collects his thoughts. A horrible sense of foreboding falls over Grimmjow._

_"I believe that," Ulquiorra say, slowly and precisely, enunciating each word, almost as if hesitant. "We should end our relationship."_

_The teal-haired man knows better than to interrupt as his fears are confirmed._

_"I feel I am not getting what I want from our relationship. No, that is not the problem. _You_ are the problem, Grimmjow. I feel that you are not contributing as you should be."_

_The bluenet opens his mouth to argue, silenced by a pearly-skinned hand._

_"Please allow me to finish," the raven-haired man says, a deadly undertone in his voice. "First, you are frequently drunk, despite my many warnings about measuring your alcohol consumption. You ignore me when I tell you not to drink so much. Next, you're always out at bars or clubs, and I know for a fact that you've had sex with at least a few strangers from those disgusting places. Do not interrupt me!" Emerald eyes flash menacingly as the teal-haired man starts to argue again. Grimmjow scowls, now glaring at the other._

_"Your so-called friends are completely incompetent, and they seem to thrive on destroying our apartment. You never seem to be in a good mood, and even if you're not, you could pretend. It is extremely unpleasant to live with someone who is constantly surly."_

_"Whoa, hold up!" the bluenet yells, ignoring the glare Ulquiorra gave him. "_You're_ mad at _me_ for being in a bad mood? Understandable, but hypocritical as hell coming from the guy who smiles about once a freakin' century," Grimmjow snarls, his hands fisting in anger. "I have to pretend to be happy while you can just be apathetic all the time? I've seen rocks that show more emotion than you do! Hell, even when I'm fucking you into the mattress, the least you can do is act like you like it! You are the fuckin' coldest, most impassive man I have ever met!"_

_He knows his accusations are lies, or at least not completely true. But his temper was speaking for him._

_The blue-haired man heaves a breath, his eyes locked with green ones. He realizes during his rant he had stood up. With a plop, he drops back onto the couch and shoots dirty looks at the wall behind Ulquiorra's head._

_"And the only thing about me that interests you is my body. All you care about is sex," the raven-haired man says quietly, continuing as if Grimmjow had said nothing. "You're a drunken, lust-filled idiot."_

_The bluenet had stopped listening and was arguing with himself internally. Part of him wanted to punch something ― preferably Ulquiorra ― but that would definitely would not help the situation. The other half was trying to quell his rising rage. However, the logical part of his mind is overwhelmed when he snaps at the pale man's next words._

_"You're not worth my time. Trash."_

_A fist flies out, smashing into the couch's back board, inches from Ulquiorra's ear. Wide emerald eyes stare, shocked, into ocean blue ones._

_"I'm not trash. I got enough of that from my parents as a kid, and I'm not going to tolerate it now. If you _ever_ look down on me, I swear I'm going to break every bone in your body."_

_Grimmjow stuns himself as he realizes what he had actually said. He just threatened Ulquiorra, the one who meant the world to him. The one he couldn't live without The bluenet furiously backpedals as he sees something in those emerald eyes break._

_"Ulquiorra, I... I didn't... I don't know what―"_

_Th raven-haired man stands and turns away from him. "It's alright, Grimmjow. I understand. I will leave. You never have to see me look down on you again." He starts towards the door, watched by a shell-shocked Grimmjow. The bluenet shakes himself, forcing his body to get up and grab a retreating pale arm._

_"Wait, Ulquiorra. That's not what I meant. I―"_

_The shorter man spins abruptly, glaring into cyan eyes challenging. "Then what _do_ you mean, Grimmjow? Your words were pretty apparent to me. I will get out of your life."_

_The teal-haired man watches helplessly as the raven-haired man disappears and the door slams shut. A few minutes pass before his mind, numb with mental paralysis, orders his body to chase after his long-gone lover._

_The man stands on the sidewalk, the rain pelting him relentlessly. Several drops of water splash onto his face and run down his cheeks. He stares at the empty street, seeing nothing._

_End Flashback_

Emerald eyes gazed down at an old picture, a barely noticeable tremble shaking the paper. They looked so happy. He was actually smiling. It was tiny, non-existent compared to the wide grin beside it. But it was there. He must have been enjoying himself. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that…

The paper fluttered to the floor, bare feet padding over to a window. Rain pattered against the window, cars' headlights illuminating his face as they flashed by.

Did he make the right choice? Is it really better this way?

He never doubted his decisions. Unless it concerned Grimmjow. That man had come into his life and destroyed his careful walls and precariously contrasted persona. And he loved it. Everything was so much brighter and colorful and exciting when Grimmjow was around. Grimmjow made him forget what he didn't want to remember, made him feel more than he had ever felt before.

But with that came a price, obviously. Didn't everything have a price tag on it? It was simply a matter of how much one was paying. He remembered the thrill of being with wild blue-haired man wearing away, replaced by constant irritation or just boredom. Was he being selfish in breaking off what they had? Surely Grimmjow had felt the same way he had felt.

Still, his conscience told him he should regret it. But he stopped listening to his conscience long ago. It was corrupt. The doubts nagged him nonetheless. Had he done what was best for both of them? Had he broken something that should never be broken?

He convinced himself he was right, his judgement was correct. But the sky boomed at him and the silent tears that spilled from endless green eyes begged to differ.


End file.
